Last Friday Night
by PhantomVunachellie
Summary: A single night can change a life forever depending on how you spend it. Tony Stark prefers to spend his Friday nights crashing parties and getting blackout drunk before nearly dying as he drives himself home. Or wakes up the next morning in a strangers bed. Steve Rogers prefers to stay home and study instead of partying. But one night and one party can change that. High School AU!
1. Chapter 1

**Last Friday Night**

**Chapter 1: Stumbling**

Weekends are a time of refuge for anyone. Weekends mean that you get a two day break from school, work, and basically just life in general and you can kick back, relax, and even spend time with friends and family. And in some cases, you end up going into the week more tired than you left it. Which happens more times than not.

High school students tend to take the weekend to party, or just relax. It is actually quite simple: if you like to party, you party, and if you don't like to party, you don't. People seem to believe that the popular kids are the only ones who party, but some of them don't even do that. Although, during summer time and the warmer months, high school students tend to go a little crazy and decide to stay up later and act a little more crazy than usual.

On this night in particular, it was about eighty five degrees out, a clear night, and not to mention it was a Friday night. Those words usually made teenagers go crazy, pull out their best summer clothes, and grab their parent's car keys so they could get out and loose it. Especially on Friday nights.

"You know partying is not exactly the type of thing I enjoy doing on weekends." Steve Rogers complained as he and one of his closest friends, Clint Barton, drove down the road heading for the destination to a party they had been invited to.

"I know. Instead you would rather drown yourself in homework, go to the gym, and anything else that is antisocial."

"Forgive me for wanting to get good grades and keep in shape." He condescended watching Clint roll his eyes, then double checking the piece of paper that had the party address on it.

"Dude, you have all A's, and you eat like a pig and still manage to look the same as you did when I first met you." He said turning left on the road and slowing down. That was a key hint that they were nearing their destination, and Steve could literally feel his dread growing. The last thing he wanted to do tonight was go to a party with a bunch of drunken teenage girls falling all over him wanting to sleep with him. Or worse, maybe he would get drunk and wake up somewhere naked. The idea made him cringe and he quickly pushed if from his mind deciding he wasn't going to drink much tonight.

"You met me when I was eight." He said confused once he cleared his mind.

"Doesn't matter."

"Yeah, okay." He chuckled and looked out his window. "Whose house did you say this was?" He asked.

"Natasha Romanov's. She's in my calculus class and my physical education class. We're pretty close and she invited me telling me to bring whoever I wanted."

"And you chose me of all people?"

"Of course I did. It's not like I know many other cool people." Steve laughed at the comment knowing Clint was being sincere. Even if Steve didn't like to party or go out on weekends, he was well known throughout the school and people did love him. Teachers and students.

"Is that the house?" Steve pointed to the right toward a house that was surrounded with cars and pulsing with music. People were still pouring in through the front doors with beer, munchies, and anything else they thought would be necessary at a party. However Steve had his doubts about a few things that cleared the doorway.

"Do you even need to ask?" Clint parallel parked behind a sleek red sports car and a silver Mustang. There was still someone sitting in the red sports car texting away on some high tech looking cell phone with their feet kicked up on the dash board. They were blasting AC/DC out of their speakers, but it was drowned out by the music in the house.

Clint and Steve climbed out of their car and just as they headed into the house, Clint groaned loudly. Steve turned to him hoping he was disappointed at the sight of the party and was going to suggest they leave, but when he looked at him, he was looking over his shoulder back at where they parked and at the guy in the red sports car.

"What?" Steve asked looking back at the man sitting in the car. He looked short and had dark brown hair that he probably spent all of thirty seconds doing, however it still looked divine. He was wearing a navy blue t-shirt and a pair of faded jeans. However his shoes were probably brand name since Steve didn't see a logo on them anywhere. He figured his whole outfit was brand name.

"It's that new kid…he has calculus with Nat and me and the little shit thinks he knows everything."

"Does he?"

"Yeah, that's the annoying part. He acts like he's better than everyone else in there and still finds time to complain. He's a pretentious little spoiled brat." Steve looked over his shoulder again at him as he climbed out of his car and locked it up behind him. "Why Nat invited him, I'll never know."

"Maybe someone else did."

"Are you kidding? The only friend that kid has is Bruce Banner. I have nothing against Bruce personally, he's a friend, but I'm sure even _he_ wouldn't invite that beyotch." Steve chuckled at his friend's choice of words. He hoped that those two didn't cross paths at all tonight, especially if one of them was going to be drinking.

"What did he ever do to you?" Steve asked pitying the brunette as he walked in alone behind them. He didn't look bothered though, he was focused on his phone, and the look on his face showed that he could care less whether he was surrounded by friends or completely alone.

"He transferred to our school." He grumbled walking through the door with Steve.

"What's his name?" Steve asked looking around at everyone in the house. It was a madhouse. There were people drinking beer out of red plastic cups, running around half naked or in bathing suits, making out on the couches and in the corners, and the walls were literally shaking from the music. Not only that, but he was pretty sure there were some people smoking somewhere in the house, because he could smell the putrid scent of cigarette smoke, which he hated.

"Something Stark." He shrugged. "He's not important enough for me to remember his name."

"You're so friendly." Steve cheekily grinned over at him to which he just returned an agitated glance.

"To everyone else but him, yes." He said scanning the house and finally waving at a red haired girl who was rushing towards them with a couple of red cups in her hands. However she looked completely sober. There was a tall blonde following her, his hair long and tied back away from his face. He was holding a small brunettes hand and his lips were moving so he was obviously talking to one of them. Steve recognized him immediately. They were close friends since freshman year and even played football together. Steve always took him for a partier.

"Steven!" Thor – the tall blonde guy – boomed as he walked over embracing him tightly. "It is wonderful to see you. I do not recall ever seeing you at one of Natasha's parties before."

"I was dragged here against my will." He shrugged hearing Clint snigger beside him victorious at his heist. "However it is nice to see a few familiar faces. Jane, it's nice to see you." He said smiling at the little brunette holding Thor's hand.

"It's nice to see you too." She smiled up at him. "And you're not alone. I was dragged here as well. If it were up to me, I would be at home probably studying for my science tests on Monday."

"As if you need to." Steve chuckled knowing she had about one hundred and ten percent in those classes. They were her best subjects.

"No more school talk you two, we're here to have fun." Clint said covering both of their mouths with a hand.

"What he said." Natasha spoke up for the first time or at least the first time Steve heard her talk. He figured she was talking to Clint while he caught up with Thor and Jane. "The pools out back obviously, there are drinks and snacks in the kitchen and on the patio, so just go and have fun." She smiled up at them. "Find me if you need anything." She grabbed Clint's wrist and began to drag him away into the crowed of people.

"Text me if you want to go, bro. Not too early though. We just got here." He called over his shoulder at Steve. Steve held a thumbs up to let him know that he got it, however if he really wanted to go and Clint didn't, he could just walk home. It wasn't more than a twenty minute walk.

"Jane and I were just about to go for a swim. Care to join us?" Thor asked not wanting to leave Steve alone in this huge crowed of strangers. There was nothing worse than being ditched at a party of people who knew you, but you didn't know them.

"I'll come outside, but I'm not getting in the water." He shrugged following the two of them through the crowed of people who were dancing to some upbeat electronic song he didn't know. Dubstep was probably one of the most annoying forms of music he knew, but it was tolerable tonight. At least he wasn't being a wallflower all night waiting for Clint to decide he wanted to go home.

As they made their way out onto the patio, he caught sight of the Stark boy from earlier and paused for a moment to look at him. He was sitting down at the table across from someone else who he figured was Bruce Banner by the looks of it. The two of them had beers in their hands and were mindlessly sipping at them and laughing at something that Steve was dumb to. Nonetheless, he couldn't help but think about how bored Stark looked.

His train of thought was broken when he felt water splash out of the pool and onto him. When he turned towards the water, he realized Thor had just jumped in next to Jane and caused the splash. It was a funny sight to see, he had to admit.

"What's on your mind, Steven?" Thor asked swimming over to the ledge with Jane. He had caught Steve glancing over his shoulder back towards the house as he sat down on the wet concrete beside the pool. He turned back to face both of them leaning on the ledge looking up at him with curious eyes. Thor's look, however, made him laugh a bit.

"Nothing." He shrugged. "I just noticed someone here."

"Who?" Jane asked.

"Just that Stark kid over there. Clint seems to hate everything about him." He pointed towards him and Bruce Banner walking out onto the patio together, still talking. "I'm just curious as to why."

"He can be a little narcissistic at times." Thor commented. "And he is new here, Clint hasn't warmed up to him yet I'm presuming."

"You know him?"

"Of course I do. I had to give him a tour of the school when he first arrived. But needless to say he hardly paid any attention to my information and advice." He shrugged. "I suppose I hold a slight grudge against the little man myself."

"It seems to me like Bruce is his only friend." Jane commented looking towards him with sympathy in her eyes. "It's kind of sad if you think about it. I heard he's also some sort of genius, so no wonder Bruce and him get along so well."

"He is a few years below us." Thor nodded. "Or at least he was destined to be. He moved up a couple of grades."

"No kidding." Steve said perplexed. "How old is he?"

"I do not know, actually. He hardly spoke a word to me when I introduced him to the school and his teachers." Thor shrugged looking slightly bored with their choice of conversation. "I believe his name is Anthony Stark, but I never bothered with formalities since he portrayed the persona of caring less to know anything about me or the school."

"Steve, why do you care so much to know about him?" Jane giggled. Steve turned slightly pink in the cheeks and he glared down at the brunette swimming next to Thor.

"I don't. I'm just curious to know about new students is all."

"Since when?"

"Since always!" He looked over his shoulder again at Anthony and Bruce standing on the patio together. Bruce was saying something to him, but instead of engaging in the conversation, his eyes were fixated on Steve. There was a look in his eyes that gave Steve the sense of exposure. It was like he knew that Steve had been talking about him the whole time.

OOO

No matter how many times he called Clint, he didn't answer the phone. It had been about three hours since they showed up at nine, so it was just past midnight now, and he was more than ready to go home. Thor and Jane left an hour ago leaving him all alone to roam the house talking to random people that he didn't know. It was better than standing alone though.

He leaned against Clint's car with his phone held tight in his hand. His head was supported by the car door and his eyes were shut. The music from the house was still blaring and he was almost positive the cops would show up any minute and if Clint didn't answer his phone, than Steve would probably be bailing him out of jail and covering for him when they showed up at their houses around four in the morning.

Fridays may seem like the type of night to party, but after you've had school all week and hardly any sleep, you're about ready to crash from exhaustion around midnight on Friday. Only caffeine addicts could stay up late without even trying. However they did have caffeine in them, so there was always that placebo.

"Clint, answer your phone. It's getting late and I think we've been here long enough. So come on before the cops show up." Steve left him a voicemail after the eighth time he tried calling him in the past twenty minutes. There was no way he was staying here till one in the morning.

He shoved his phone in his pocket and resumed his relaxed position against the car, shutting his eyes. The music in the house was more relaxed than it had been when they arrived. Instead of hyped up dubstep, Natasha had decided to start playing radio songs and only the occasional dubstep song. It was a little more tolerable for Steve, and he preferred this considering how exhausted he was.

"Did you have a little too much to drink there, Blondie?" A voice startled him to open his eyes and turn in the direction it came from. Staring at him from a small distance was the boy from earlier: Anthony. There wasn't a hint of worry on his face, just confusion. That indicated to him that if he really were drunk, this guy would do nothing to help him, and nor would he probably care.

"I didn't drink at all." He replied, vaguely agitated. He wasn't agitated at him, but more so at Clint who still had not shown up or returned Steve's phone calls. "I'm just tired."

"So go home." Anthony unlocked his car and the stereo started to play light music.

"I would, but my friend is my ride." He pointed behind him at the black car that was locked, preventing him from going home. Anthony cocked an eyebrow while he looked at the car briefly before he centered in on Steve once again. His eyes were somewhat captivating. They were a warm caramel color that instantly caught his attention.

"Well I guess you're shit out of luck there, pal." He shrugged. He turned back to his car and for the first time Steve noticed he was wavering and stumbling a bit. He wouldn't have even guessed he might possibly be drunk just by talking to him. The guy was a rock.

"Did _you _have a little too much to drink?" He asked cautiously wondering if this kid was about to get in the car and drive off. He could only imagine seeing all the news stations broadcasting about the Stark Boy getting killed in a crash. The thought made him jump to his feet. Whether he knew the kid or not he didn't want one of his classmates getting in a fatal car crash.

"Me? Nah, I'm just tired is all." He waved Steve off with a floppy hand and opened the car door. The first time he missed the handle and that was all Steve needed to see in order to stop the guy from driving off.

"Yeah, that's a lie. Come on, get out of the car."

"Who are you, a cop?" He asked angrily looking up at Steve.

"Anthony, I'm serious, I don't want you getting hurt or hurting anyone else just because you're being careless." Steve walked over to the car door and motioned for him to get up.

"Now you sound like my father calling me Anthony. That is just way too formal for my taste. Shit dude, who named you my protector?"

"I'm not you protector, I just don't think you should be driving." Anthony glared up at him for a moment. His eye contact was intense and Steve almost forgot what they were talking about for a moment because he was suddenly so enthralled with Anthony's eyes. But finally, and not a moment to soon, he angrily got up out of the car and took the keys out of the ignition.

"Fine, you happy? Now where am I going to sleep, the bush?" He shouted pointing towards the scenery in front of Natasha's house. Steve looked down at Anthony for a long moment holding his glare and finally shook his head,

"I'll take you home. Give me the keys and just direct me to your house." He thrust his hand out not looking forward to seeing where this Stark guy lived. Probably some mansion hours away.

Suddenly, Anthony's eyes grew wide and he stared up at Steve. A few seconds passed before he slowly began to shake his head as if he had just had an awful epiphany. It was a little humorous to Steve since he knew Anthony was drunk and watching him try to shake his head and keep his balance at the same time was a little too funny.

"My parents would have my head. And trust me, this won't be the first time I've stumbled home drunk on them and between you and me, they were _beyond _pissed off." Steve cocked his head to the side as Anthony continued to shake his head.

"Then why do you continue to go out and get drunk?" Steve asked flabbergasted.

"Hey, you don't know my life, pal. So back off." He hissed pressing a finger into Steve's chest hard.

"I never said I did, calm down, Anthony." He said defensively, his hand still out for Anthony's keys.

"I said that was too formal. Call me Tony."

"Alright, _Tony_, give me the keys." Tony looked up at him for a moment considering if he wanted to go home, face his parents wrath, or if he just wanted to crash in one of the bushes for tonight. The second option sounded a whole hell of a lot better to Tony, but he knew he'd probably get in more trouble with Natasha for sleeping in her shrubbery. On the outside, she looked very normal, but he knew how fierce she could get if put in the wrong scenario. He didn't want to get into a scrap with that.

Finally, he dropped the keys into Steve's hands and angrily made his way – whilst he stumbled – over to the passengers side of the car. Like a spoiled child, he got in the car and sat down with a pout on his face the whole time.

Steve climbed into the driver's seat and noticed Tony fidgeting uncomfortably in his seat and staring out of the windshield absently with a scowl now replacing the pout on his face.

"Do you not know how to drive?" He asked angrily pointing to the ignition. "Damn, we're more likely to get into an accident with _you _driving."

"I know how to drive, thank you." He growled putting the keys into the ignition and putting the car into drive before he pulled out and began to make his way up the road. "Why do you look like we're heading towards certain doom?"

"Because we are." He mumbled beginning to fidget again after he turned up the radio station which was one of the most popular stations anyone their age would listen to. It played all the greatest hits, and something told Steve that not only was the music not his style, but Tony wasn't exactly digging it either, but he was just too drunk to care. "Oh, I have an idea. How about you drop me off at a motel for the night and just call your friend back there to come pick you up? Genius!" He shouted throwing a hand in the air.

"No way. The only motels around here are shady and plus, I'm pretty sure Clint wouldn't want to pick me up around one in the morning."

"Barton is your friend? Whoa, I'm sorry to hear that!"

"You don't even know him."

"I know him well enough to pity anyone whose friends with him."

"Now I know why he hates you so much." Steve growled having to wring the steering wheel to keep his cool.

"Everyone hates me! Even my own parents!" He shouted throwing both his hands in the air and smiling. "It's great to be me knowing that I don't have to worry about friends because I have none!" A giggle escaped him, but Steve looked over at him warily as he stopped at a four way intersection he knew to well. If he turned left, it would only be a few minutes before he reached home. "Everyone hates me…" he leaned his head back on the seat and looked up at the stars. Steve stalled at the intersection not sure what to do or say.

With one last look at Tony, he began to turn the steering wheel left and head down his road. Tony didn't even look up to know they had turned down a different road. Instead, he just looked over at Steve from the corner of his eyes and stared at him a long while. Although he was drunk, there were hundreds of thoughts running through his mind. Perhaps Steve was taking a different route to Tony's house or maybe he was pulling over to get out and let Tony drive home himself. Who would want to drive with such a downer anyway? But by the look on Steve's face – which didn't reveal much to what he was thinking – he wasn't that type of guy. His expression was gentle and held no sign of agitation. Confusion and worry, yes, but no anger or irritation.

Suddenly, Steve pulled his phone out of his pocket and quickly dialed a number without even looking at the keypad. Obviously he knew it by heart. He put the phone up to his ear and focused on the road as he slowed down a bit. Tony could hear the dial tone and due to his drunken state it sounded like sirens.

"Mom," Steve began. _Oh no…_Tony thought, trying to keep his eyes from going wide in worry. _I'm busted._ "I'm bringing a friend over for the night…no it's not Clint, he's crashing at Thor's tonight…I've been friends with him for a while mom, we just never made plans to hang out…alright…see you soon…bye." He hung up the phone and looked over at Tony who was still watching him closely with a slightly stunned look in his eyes. At least he wasn't calling his mother to come pick him up from Tony's after he dropped him off. That would certainly raise a lot of questions, and surely Steve's parents wouldn't be too happy about him hanging out with someone who was on the verge of being a raging alcoholic. He knew how these things went: one overprotective parent who coddles their child beyond belief sees their child hanging out with a _delinquent _and then said parent talks to the bad child's parents and it starts a Montague and a Capulet type of fight. Despite the fact he hardly knew Steve that was the last thing he wanted to start. Plus, it would add a lot of unnecessary drama around school. He'd be damned if he wanted that.

"You might want to call your parents as well. Try not to sound to drunk." Steve advised as he pulled into his driveway and shut the car off.

"They won't care. They care if I'm drunk, not if I'm out all night and don't tell them where I am." He mumbled as he got out of the car and looked up at Steve's house. _Parents of the year._ Steve chuckled to himself as he began to walk towards his house.

Tony got a good eyeful of the house. It was cozy looking, not to big, not to small. It was a one story house – maybe it had a basement – with white paint and blue shutters. Hanging outside above the porch was an American flag that was slightly larger than any American flag Tony had seen. There were flowers gated off like someone had worked extremely hard on them. It was a classic American home. There were even rocking chairs and pillows and blankets on the porch. The only thing missing were toy Tonka trucks outside, but Tony figured Steve was an only child.

He followed the bigger man up the steps of the porch and listened to them creek under their weight. The house was old, there was no denying that, but looking at the condition it was in, the Rogers family took great care of it. There was even a welcome mat by the door and a sign hanging on the door that said Rogers. The sight – although blurred for him – made Tony chuckle. Leave it to him to get stuck with a goody two shoes kid.

"Steve, is that you?" A voice came from a room that Tony figured was a kitchen just as they entered the house. What kind of parents sat up all night waiting for their son to get home from a raging high school rave? Certainly his parents never did that. Not even when he was a kid.

"Yeah mom, it's me." He replied toeing his shoes off and leaving them by the door. Tony – very clumsily – followed his lead. He nearly fell over and into the plant arrangement next to him trying to get his shoes off. Luckily he regained his balance and managed to look sober just as Steve's mother walked into the room.

She was a tiny blonde woman with striking blue eyes that lit up even in the dark. Her hair had a slight curl to it, and she was very skinny. So skinny it almost made her look sick. Aside from her looks, Tony questioned how Steve came from that.

"So this is your friend?" She asked pointing to Tony as she closed the plaid robe she wore around her. It was slightly big, so something told Tony it must be her husbands – Steve's father.

"Yeah, this is Tony." Steve said stepping aside so his mother could get a better look at the young man.

"Nice to meet you, Tony. I'm Sarah." She smiled outstretching her hand and walking over to him. Tony outstretched his hand and shook her hand as gently as he could. He was afraid he would break it. "Well, our house is yours. Make yourself at home, don't stay up to late, and I'll see you in the morning." She was talking more to Steve near the end and he leaned down to give her a hug goodnight. That was another thing Tony hardly saw anymore and he certainly didn't do it either.

She walked off down the hallway to two glass doors that must have led to her room. She shut them quietly as if she would wake someone up. Tony figured Steve's dad must be in there trying to get some rest.

Without a word to Tony, Steve made his way down the hallway after his mother, only he turned into a bedroom a few doors away from where his mother went in. Tony followed quickly and tried not to knock anything over in the process. His stumbling had gotten worse, and he was suddenly considering if he had drank to much booze at the party. _Damn Natasha for having so many good drinks!_ He internally cursed the little red head.

He turned into Steve's room and looked around at how undeniably normal it was. The only things that were on the walls were photographs of him with family and friends, and they were framed and neatly set up. The bed was made and had basic blue sheets and a blue pillow case on a wood bed frame. In the corner was a small desk – the wood matched that of the bed – and a laptop was set up on it. It was an older laptop, a Gateway tablet to be exact. Tony stifled a laugh knowing it would probably insult him. After all, he was showing hospitality by letting him crash here for the night instead of face his parents at home.

"Here, you can borrow these…" Steve reached up into his closet and pulled down a brown sleeping bag that looked like it was brand new. Either he hardly used it, or he just took very good care of his things. After he handed Tony the sleeping bag, he handed him one of the blue pillows on his bed. All the while Steve was thinking of how awkward it would be sleeping with only one pillow, but he would survive.

"Thanks…" Tony slurred tossing the two things on the floor as if that would set them up. "You're a real chum, Stevie." He smiled up at the taller blonde who was now just watching him warily. Maybe bringing Tony here was a bad idea.

"Yeah, just set up your sleeping bag and get some sleep." Steve replied turning his back on Tony and beginning to riffle through his drawers for something to sleep in.

"What? No pajamas?" Tony asked in a snarky tone. He didn't miss the angry groan from Steve and the way his posture stiffened at the question. "Whoa, I was kidding. Calm it, Rogers."

"Here, use these." He tossed a pair of red pajama pants and plain white t-shirt over his shoulder at Tony who – shockingly enough – caught them.

"Bathroom?" He asked not exactly sure if Steve was okay with him changing right there in front of him. Sure he'd done it at other peoples houses when he used to spend the night, but he had just met Steve that night and the only reason he knew his name was because _everyone_ knew Steve.

"Right next door." He replied not turning to face Tony.

"Superb. Be right back." He stumbled out of the room humming a song that Steve didn't recognize and the bathroom door slammed. Surly Steve's mom wouldn't enjoy that.

Quickly, Steve changed into his pajamas and set up Tony's sleeping bag and pillow since the genius had neglected to do so since he was so hammered. He hid it well though. He figured that Tony could have gone home and his parents wouldn't have even guessed he had anything to drink. However, Steve didn't know Tony's parents and he assumed that they must be foxes when it came to that kind of stuff. By the way Tony put it; he'd been drinking a while now. The sad thing was, he looked younger than Steve.

"Your bathroom is so clean. Holy shit dude, do you have a life?" Tony's voice broke his train of thought and he straightened up from setting up the sleeping bag to see Tony standing in the doorway in nothing but the pajama pants Steve loaned him. The white t-shirt was held securely in his hands and he was absently drumming his fingers against his bare chest. "Aw, look at you being the little humble host setting up my bed? I should spend the night here more often." He chuckled and shut the door behind him before he thrust the t-shirt at Steve who was becoming agitated with his guest.

"Right…" He droned out tucking the shirt away in one of his drawers. "Just go to bed and if you're not too hung over you can go home in the morning." He commented as he crawled into his bed hoping Tony would take his instruction and do just that.

"Damn, you party animal." It was no shocker he didn't listen to Steve, but he did get into the sleeping bag at least. "Even when I'm sober I stay up till at least three! School nights included."

"No wonder you have such dark circles under your eyes." Steve commented as he kept his eyes trained on the ceiling. "Please, Tony, I'm tired. If you want to stay up can't you at least be quiet and go on your phone or something? You can use my laptop even if that'll please you."

"Is it so much to have someone to talk to?" He grumbled making Steve look over at him curiously. "I may be drunk, but that doesn't mean I'm not thinking straight."

"You're not, Tony."

"Says you!" He shouted earning a shush from Steve who knew his mother must be asleep by now.

"Fine, you want to talk, let's talk." He sighed rolling over on his side so he could look at Tony.

"Now I lost my train of thought. Thanks a lot." Tony angrily rolled over in his sleeping bag to which Steve rolled his eyes and rolled back onto his back grateful for Tony's newfound silence.

They lay there for a moment just staring at the ceiling and Tony's drunken eyes exploring Steve's room absently. He noticed a US Army lanyard hanging on one of the desk drawers and he raised an eyebrow.

"You're joining the army?" He asked quietly.

"Considering it…" Steve replied slowly. "My mom really wants me to go to college, but it just seems more justifying for me to join the military." He shrugged knowing Tony wouldn't see it and turned his head to notice his guest had turned to look at him as well. "How about you? What do you plan on doing after high school?"

"Going to college obviously. Unlike you, I wouldn't survive a day in the armed forces. Hell no." Steve chuckled slightly knowing it to be all to true. He had only known Tony a few hours and he could already tell he was not the military type. He was too spoiled. He'd expect breakfast in bed or something, and his own personal suite while he was there. _Classic rich boy…_

"Why did you bring me here?" Tony suddenly asked catching Steve off guard. He thanked his lucky stars for the darkness because for some unknown reason he felt himself blushing from the question.

"You said your parents would be mad at you…I figured why not save you from another lecture?" He said simply. Tony was silent for a moment, and in the dark Steve could see him giving him a look that said, _nice try_.

"Really?"

"Well, yes. That and you were saying everyone hated you."

"And this is a gesture to show me that not everyone does?" Steve didn't reply to that. He didn't have to. "Damn Rogers, you are exactly what everyone says…a nice guy." Tony chuckled and rolled onto his back to look up at Steve's ceiling. "I like that about you though. You're a nice guy…and I'm…well, you probably know what they say about me, don't you? Being a _nice guy _isn't exactly my style." Steve cocked an eyebrow as he watched Tony roll onto his back and look up at the ceiling with glassy eyes. A very gentle chuckle was emitting from Tony and his eyes were beginning to twitch with a drunken demeanor. "Now, if you want to look it at in a cheesier aspect which I often find myself doing, you could say this is one of those _opposites attract _moments. Pop culture has been shoving that thought down our throats since we were born. I used to think it was such bullshit. Opposites attracting? Do you believe that?" One last laugh escaped him and Steve watched his eyes snap shut and his mouth begin to fall open. He passed out.

Steve observed him for a few moments. He took in his appearance as he slept and noticed how much of a nicer guy he looked in his sleep. It was like he tried to be cooler or have a more superior exterior when he was awake and alert. Drunk or not, he always tried to be number one. Also, he had one of the biggest ego's Steve had ever witnessed. Just the way he held himself was enough to indicate that the guy _knew_ he was all that. However, Steve just looked passed that. Everyone had different personalities for a reason that he knew. Tony obviously obtained his personality in a different way of his own. But despite his rudeness, Steve couldn't help but just smile and wonder if maybe Tony and he would become friends. Certainly he wanted to be.

"Yeah," He replied smiling at his sleeping guest one last time before he rolled onto his back as well and shut his eyes. It felt nice to finally be able to get some rest. "I do."

_**Hello! Is it just me, or do all my Stony fan fictions start of with Tony being a cranky drunk? **_

_**Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed the beginning to this little story I've constructed here. I told myself when I started writing fan fictions I wouldn't write a high school AU, and here I am writing one. And might I say it is so much fun! I love it! And I hope that all of you have enjoyed this as well! Legit, this chapter took me forever to write since it's the first. Also, since it's my first high school AU story, be gentle if it's no good…**_

_**Don't worry; I'm not by any means abandoning my other story The Darkness Within. That one is still ongoing, but it's becoming a struggle because of my busy life. I just needed to write this and post it and see how you all liked it. So if any of you are reading that one, don't worry, it's not over.**_

_**Pretty please REVIEW and let me know what you all think of this so far! I love you all so very much, enjoy! **_

_**Happy Reading!**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Good Morning? **

Nothing woke Tony up faster than the scent of breakfast being made, and the scent of fresh brewing coffee. In his house, breakfast actually being cooked was a sign of the apocalypse. No one ever cooked in his house, let alone breakfast! So when he actually got a good whiff of the doughy scent of pancakes or waffles he was slightly jarred. However when he opened his eyes and got an eyeful of where he was, his shock hit the roof and he jumped up from the floor nearly sending the sleeping bag he was in into the dresser across the room. It took him a moment to remember where he was and why he was there. Once he got a look around the room; the neatly made blue bed, the out of date gateway computer, and the army lanyard, he remembered where he was.

Steve Rogers house.

When he looked down he saw the unfamiliar red pajama pants he bore on his legs and the sleeping bag and pillow Steve had lent him for the night. His heart sank and he stood there for a moment not exactly knowing how to feel with all this hospitality. Usually when he was drunk, people would ignore it and let him go home to his parents. Never once had someone taken him home and let him stay the night instead of going home to find more trouble than he anticipated. And he certainly hadn't expected said person to give him pajamas and something to sleep in and on. But then he met Steve Rogers.

His memory of the night before was foggy as was expected, but it was all slowly coming back to him. Like it or not, he did owe Steve for saving his ass at the party and for now. If one thing was certain, he knew his parents reaction would be cataclysmic when they figured out he drank and got drunk _again. _

Absentmindedly he began to make his way down the hallway and towards the kitchen where people were murmuring and something was sizzling on the stove. It smelled like some form of meat so Tony wasn't complaining in the slightest. The only thing that seemed off to him was the fact that he wasn't just getting dressed, gathering his things, and booking it out of Steve's house before either he or his mother had time to react and notice he disappeared. Instead here he was now standing in the threshold of the kitchen looking in at Steve standing in front of the stove with a spatula in hand, his head turned over his shoulder towards his mother and they were smiling at each other. She was sitting weakly at the table and looked exhausted.

It took the two of them a moment to realize he had joined them. Sarah – Steve's mother – noticed him first and she smiled at him in the most welcoming way. Only when Steve saw her looking over at the archway did he notice Tony as well. Although not as welcoming, he smiled at his guest. He wasn't quite sure what to consider Tony just yet. But just him being here for breakfast was a good sign.

"Good morning." Sarah chirped as Tony sat down across from her at the table. "Did you two sleep well?"

"Hardly stayed up at all, Mrs. Rogers." Tony assured holding up an OK sign and rubbing his forehead. "Who would have guessed a floor could be so comfortable to sleep on? I'd say that was the best sleep I've ever had." He lied. Thankfully he didn't have a splitting migraine from a hangover this time around. As he looked at Sarah across the table, he wondered how she might react if she knew Tony had been drunk last night and Steve was just saving his ass.

"Steve has never stayed up very late…" She sighed looking over at her son who was putting the breakfast of pancakes and sausage onto plates. It wasn't much, but it brought the slightest of smiles to Tony's face. And that smile only grew when he noticed that Steve was pouring a couple cups of coffee. One of those _had _to be for him.

Breakfast was uncomfortably quiet. Sarah tried to strike up conversation, but it always died out after a few sentences of speaking. No one was partial to talking this morning, there was far too much on both Steve and Tony's minds to say anything. They hardly even looked at each other. Steve was slightly embarrassed that he'd brought a drunk home from a party without a second thought, and Tony was embarrassed for letting Steve do that for him, only Tony didn't show any sign of embarrassment or worry.

Not even ten minutes later, Steve and Tony had made their way back into Steve's room and just sat back down. Steve on his bed and Tony on the ground atop his sleeping bag. Neither of them moved except for Tony was pulling his t-shirt on over his head. It smelled like beer and he worried his parents might call him out for it.

"Well, this has been fun and all, but I should really get going." Tony mumbled standing up and began to put on his shoes. "You're not exactly the type of person I wanted to come home from a party with, but thanks for the hospitality, Rogers." He straightened back up. "Mind if I borrow these?" He pointed to his red pajama pants. He wasn't in the mood to be putting on jeans and wearing them all the way home. He'd rather be comfortable.

"Yeah, no problem." Steve shrugged.

"Thanks. I'll get them back to you when I can. I'll have them washed when I get home." Steve nodded and got up to follow Tony to the door. Sarah was standing at the sink slowly but surely cleaning the dishes they had finished using. Tony watched for a brief moment with a cocked eyebrow. That was another thing he wasn't used to: someone in the family doing dishes. He grew up to privileged for that.

"Here are your keys." Steve brought Tony's attention back to him and dropped the keys in his open palm. "Drive safely. I don't want to have to come and pick you up because you got distracted and crashed your car." He chuckled as Tony opened the door and made his way down the steps from their patio.

"You won't have to." Tony smirked as he unlocked his car. "See you at school? Unless you think it would be degrading to be around me when you're with Barton." Steve eyed Tony for a moment as he climbed into his car. It was as if he didn't care if he saw Steve again or not. It wasn't like they were best friends just because Steve preformed an act of kindness.

"I'll see you at school." Steve confirmed earning a halfhearted smirk from Tony who was already driving away down the driveway. Okay, so maybe he cared a _little _if he never saw Steve again.

OOO

The rest of the weekend went by slowly. It was as if school would never be back in session, and naturally that wasn't such a bad thing. Between seeing his friends, taking his mother to the hospital because of her pneumonia – which was progressively getting worse – and explaining to Clint that he had Tony stay over, his weekend was dragging.

"Let me get this straight, you let that little _shit_ spend the night at your house while he was shitfaced?" Clint shouted into the receiver angry at Steve for _going to the dark side _as he put it. "Why out of all the people in the world to take under your wing would you choose Stark? He's an asshole, Steve!"

"He's not so bad, Clint, give the guy some credit." Steve argued spinning around in his desk chair slowly. He'd just gotten back from the hospital with his mother and was exhausted. It was eight o'clock on a Sunday night and he was starting to dread school in the morning. At least he'd gotten all his homework done while he waited for his mother to get out of her appointment with her doctor at the hospital. It had taken over three hours for him to prescribe Sarah a medication for her illness. Odds are it would be too expensive to afford anyway and the whole trip would have been for nothing.

"Credit? Steve, he's a narcissistic bastard who just deserves to be forgotten and dropped off the face of earth."

"That's a little dark, don't you think?"

"Steve, I'm being serious! Why would you invite him into your house and shelter him? _Let _his parents shout at him and bitch him out for his drunken mishaps. It's his fault, not yours. Hell let his parents kick his ass for all I care. Maybe they'll leave a mark on that pretty little face of his."

"That's not even remotely funny, Clint." Steve deadpanned. "It's not like we're inseparable, Clint. We probably exchanged conversation for about a half an hour his whole stay. It was just a friendly gesture." Steve started up his computer planning on going onto Facebook to scroll through posts until he got so bored he needed to sleep. That was usually what he did to make himself tired. Either that or he drew something, but tonight he had no desire to draw anything. However, he was itching to draw a picture of Tony, but he didn't have a good enough mental image of him.

"I just hate him so much." Steve could practically sense that he was rolling his eyes over the phone. "I know I sound like a total dick, but come on, you spent the night with him, you should see why." Steve could see why, but he also felt sympathy for Tony as well. When he looked into that mans eyes – drunk or not – he saw nothing but unhappiness and couldn't help but feel sympathy for him. When he had left to go home, the sadness was denser than it had been the night before. It was as if he were dreading going home to his house and family.

"I can, but what can you do? Just because you hate him doesn't mean he's going to change." Steve shrugged.

"Everyone hates him. Everyone but Bruce and now you apparently." Clint growled. "That should be reason enough to change your personality, damn." Steve chuckled noticing his point. If it were him of course he'd change, but Tony was different and had different reason to act the way he did.

"For someone who hates him so much you sure do talk about him a lot more than you probably should."

"It's like that type of thing where a person can do anything and it will endlessly bother you. Stark and my relationship is like that I suppose. That little shit can't even eat crackers without me getting chronically pissed at him." Steve rolled his eyes, focusing on his computer screen now ready to be bored to sleep. That is once Clint decided to hang up, which could take ages.

OOO

Finally after the long weekend Steve had endured it was Monday once again, and they were all back at school. Like every morning, Clint drove him in and they showed up half an hour before the bell rang. Clint had never really enjoyed that aspect, but at least it gave him time to finish up his homework he never did. Also, it was an excuse to go talk to friends who he never hung out with on the weekend. He had a good handful of those and always felt bad for leaving them out of the loop.

The commons area of the school was huge. It was also where they ate lunch and accumulated for important announcements and assemblies. In the mornings it was usually crammed with students who had no desire to go to class, and also those kids who never finished their homework and decided to rush it and bullshit it now. Kids like Clint. Steve had his fair share of bullshitted homework, but at least he bullshit it last night, not the morning it was due. The teachers could tell if you did it that morning. It was usually sloppy and they'd dock your points. That was the last thing Steve wanted, so he made sure it looked like he put effort into it. It wasn't like they checked it anyway.

"I need to learn how to not get distracted and party all weekend." Clint grumbled finishing up a review for calculus he should have done days ago. "I swear I'm going to drop out one of these days. I don't have time for this shit. I'll join the circus."

"You won't drop out." Steve condescended as he sipped a soda he bought moments ago. It had caffeine in it which he was desperately craving. He'd been up late the night before unable to sleep. Not only did he have sleep issues in general, but he had way too much on his mind. And of all things he couldn't stop thinking of Tony. It was as if he were worrying himself that Tony wouldn't say hi to him today. Why he cared so much he'll never know.

"You'll just be held back a couple of years." Natasha came out of nowhere from behind Clint and put her chin down on his shoulder. "The answer to number fifty is B." She deadpanned. "Miss. Davison gave us that review weeks ago, Clint. Step on it." Clint glared at her over his shoulder before he turned back to his work and began to circle random answers.

"Maybe the school board needs to take the poll out of its ass and realize that I'm not a miracle worker and have no time for all this shit." He thrust the review into his binder and closed up his backpack thankful to be done. If bullshit could be considered done.

"If Fury had any say in what the district did I'm sure he'd make a rule of no homework." Steve nodded as their principle, Nick Fury, walked by giving Steve a smile. Of course he would, Steve was a prize student. As for Clint, he just earned a look of _shape up._ Clint just flicked him off and scrambled to pack up his work before it was too late and everyone was making a mad dash down the hallways.

"Fuck me!" Clint shouted as the bell rang indicating they had five minutes till class. "Steve, skip first hour with me." He begged.

"Come on, dofus, you're going to class." Natasha yanked him out of his seat and gripped onto his arm tightly so he couldn't get away. "You just finished the review; odds are it'll be a work day anyway." She tried to perk up his spirits.

"Yeah, and maybe Stark will be sick as well and I won't have to deal with him, but miracles don't ever happen to me. What a world we live in!"

OOO

Tony usually sat alone at lunch. Being new and all meant that he hardly knew anyone, and anyone who did know him couldn't stand to be in the same room with him for over five minutes. There are only so many snarky comments these kids could take before they unleashed all hell upon him. The only people he knew who could stomach him were Bruce and Steve, but after breakfast he kind of booked it out of the Rogers household faster than a cheetah spotting its next meal. Not even his parents could deal with him. His mother, Maria, maybe, but Howard preferred to act as if Tony didn't exist.

Most of the time during lunch he would mindlessly go online or finish up a homework assignment that was due in a few weeks. Once or twice he'd just sit alone and do nothing. Or maybe he'd escape to the science classroom he adored so much and get started on a lab. He had helped the teacher construct a lecture on quantum physics one day, so it gave him an excuse to nap during class. It also had earned him a hell of a lot of extra credit which he didn't even need.

Today was no different as he sat down scrolling through his newsfeeds on Facebook bored out of his mind. The lunches at the school were split up by teachers, and thanks to his misfortune, Bruce had a teacher whose name was in the beginning of the alphabet, hence the fact he had the first lunch of the day.

Everyone was so nitpicky about who they sat with. It was hysterical watching girls get their panties in a twist as the one girl they all mutually hated approached to sit with them. It was even more entertaining to watch them all snicker as said girl ate. As if anyone looked graceful while they were eating a sandwich or stuffing their face with macaroni and cheese. Especially if they were one of those kids whose parents hated them and forced them to suffer with school lunches the whole year. Was it so hard to make a sandwich yourself or bring in some cold pizza?

His lunch was slightly more dramatized than everyone else's, however. One day when he was feeling particularly ostentatious – and hungry – he brought in half a lobster tail and some steak bits. Because that wasn't showing off. Clearly he had plenty of friends lining up to sit with him. And when he scanned his table at the vast amount of vacant seats he had he wondered how different it would be if they were occupied. Instead of dwelling, however, he turned back to his phone and read a few Facebook statuses about how boring school was.

Ever since Tony transferred here he had noticed the strange differences in school atmosphere. He'd never eaten at a school that played music during lunch or had a store full of spirit gear right in the center of the cafeteria. It was strange. Compared to the snobbish private school he used to attend, Avenger's High School was far different. Everyone there seemed to be full of school spirit and always happy. Compared to his old school this was a step up, but he did miss the snobs.

Not everyone who went to his old school was snobs, though. Two of his closest friends, Rhodey and Pepper still attended it there, but since they lived so far now it was hard to keep in contact with them. That was another thing he missed: his old friends. Of course he had Bruce now, but that was basically it. And to think he used to be a hot shot in his old school. All of the girls who went there were practically throwing themselves at him and begging to spend the night with him, and that didn't even change when he started dating Pepper. But that relationship didn't last long. She was convinced that Tony was unfaithful and would cheat on her with some new _slut _– as she put it – once he got to Avenger's High. That turned out to be a bunch of bullshit since everyone here was avoiding him. It really was true: the new kids were the walking plague. Maybe they should form an alliance and bond together.

The song changed to a song he had heard far too many times and never got sick of, but since he was so enamored with his phone the name evaded him and he just tapped his foot mindlessly, adjusting the sunglasses he wore on his face despite the fact he was inside. He'd gotten yelled at multiple times to take them off – apparently he looked like a _hood rat _and the school board just wouldn't have that kind of riffraff from the Stark boy. God forbid. But he still refused and kept them on to this moment. It was still earning him dirty looks, but he didn't care. It was fun to see the teachers piss themselves with frustration.

Tony scanned the commons looking at everyone gorging themselves in the public school delicacies, or the four hour old sandwiches they packed. It was slightly disgusting, so he tried not to focus on it and kept observing the people socializing. Over in the corner under the balcony by the school store, though, he saw a familiar face laughing hysterically at some joke he was told. He was surrounded by friends and acquaintances Tony had no interest in meeting or getting close to since he knew they were all jerks anyway. Most of them were in some of his classes and treated him like vermin, but he didn't care. He liked to be left alone when in school unless it involved Bruce.

For a few moments he kept his eyes on Steve wondering what was so funny. For a split second he wished he had heard so he could join the laughter, but quickly he got over it and just found himself watching and wondering, but not caring. That was a norm he had adapted to since he was born. So naturally, just as Steve turned his head as if he knew someone was watching him, Tony rolled his eyes and turned away.

_Kiss ass._ That was all that came to mind as Tony thought of Steve Rogers. Despite the fact that the guy had saved his ass, he still couldn't bring himself to up him in any way possible. Steve Rogers was just too much of a good guy. When Tony thought about it, he realized how much Steve embodied the American Spirit of the early 1900's. A scoff escaped him as he packed up his things to stand up just as the bell rang.

Only two more hours.

OOO

"It's fuck this shit o'clock, children!" Clint threw a pile of notes he'd taken into the trash as he walked up to Steve and Thor who were mindlessly lingering at Steve's locker. The day had just ended and all the freshman and sophomores were making a mad dash to the bus. Everyone else was sticking around to catch up with friends and then maybe go out for a bite to eat or head over to someone's house for an afternoon.

"My give-a-fuck-o-meter has officially reached zero and I'm clocking out for the day." Natasha slowly made her way over towards the accumulating group and leaned against the lockers. "If my work calls asking me to cover for someone, that person better either be in the hospital or dead."

"Damn, that happy mood." Clint chuckled tilting his head to look at her.

"Remind me to never get a job with you." Steve zipped up his backpack before slinging it over his shoulder and slamming his locker shut.

"I'm a diligent worker, but my job sucks. I hate department stores." She growled as they made their way through the mob of students heading to their cars or the commons. All the drama kids were lingering around in their musical costumes and eating snacks before dress rehearsals began. There was one thing Steve would never do again, and that was join the school musical. He got cast as Caractacus Potts in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang his freshman year, and after that humiliation, theater wasn't exactly his passion.

"Preach." Clint mumbled half listening. Everyone was in a bit of a haze once school was over, but most of the time they were focused on going home to a nap before getting ready for work. Because minimum wage was so appealing. "Steve, you should come over and make sure I actually get my work done before I crash for the night." He begged looking up at Steve who was carrying virtually nothing due to the fact that he had finished all his homework in class and now had no tests to study for.

"Just get your work done, slacker." Natasha pulled her keys out of her backpack as they made their way into the commons. "Don't make poor Steve watch you do your calculus that you didn't finish because you were too busy talking."

"Bitch, you were talking too!"

"Yeah, but I finished my work." She winked as she headed out the door of the school promising she'd text Clint later. He just flicked her off and continued to beg for Steve to help him with his homework.

"I'm not even in calculus. Besides, I have to take my mother to the doctors again." Clint blinked,

"Is her pneumonia getting worse?"

"Yeah, and we can't afford her medicine as much as we used to. And since she has me to take care of she's putting that before herself. Normally pneumonia is easy to cure, but in her case it's like a fatal illness. The doctors don't know what to do anymore." Thor frowned not knowing the severity of Steve's mothers illness. He just thought it was easily cured and she would be well in a few days.

"And here we are complaining about our lives when Steven's mother has a fatal illness! Brother Steve, if there is anything you require from me, do not hesitate to ask." Steve smiled,

"Thor, trust me, it's no big deal. She'll be fine as long as she listens to what the doctors say." His friends nodded warily knowing Steve was probably being way to optimistic about this. Clint knew Steve's mom had been sick for a long time now, and if the medicine wasn't working by now…what would?

"Thor, you miserable oaf of a brother, are we leaving for home or not?" Thor turned to his raven haired brother who was approaching angrily with books piled high in his arms. There was a group of kids laughing at him and he looked slightly embarrassed as he quickened his pace toward the door. Loki was in the same group as Tony at school: unwanted.

"Of course, brother!" He replied enthusiastically happy to see Loki again after such a long day. Thor was probably the only one who liked Loki in the whole school; however the dark haired trickster was too thick in the skull to realize. "Farewell my friends, I shall speak to you later!" He headed off after Loki, offering to take a few of his books, but Loki refused as he elbowed Thor in the ribs.

"Hey, Thor!" Clint shouted getting his attention. "Your brothers a dick."

"You're no better, Barton." Loki growled turning over his shoulder as he pushed the doors open with his foot. If there was one person Clint hated more than Tony Stark, it was Loki; Thor's adopted little shit of a brother. He was always causing mayhem in class and seemed to get a thrill out of causing others pain. Yet Thor still loved him like mad.

"Oh my God, can graduation come any slower?" Clint grumbled as he and Steve headed out the school doors towards Clint's car. "Seriously, if I have to sit through one more lecture I'm jumping out the window."

"I can't wait till you go to college and see how much harder it is. You'll be calling me every single night threatening you will drop out."

"More than I do already, that's for sure."

OOO

"So how is she?" Clint's voice grew wary in the conversation as Steve's mother was brought up again. It had been a long day between school, testing, and the doctors with his mother. What was happening now only made it longer, and Steve refused to sit still. He was standing outside a diner that was closing up and trying to not pace. Due to the fact that he had been with his mother all day he didn't have time to eat. And right now he didn't want to eat at home.

"The doctors said she doesn't have long." He admitted as his foot began to tap. "They say they've never seen anything like this before and that the medication has just stopped working. They told me to not waste any more money on it because it will do her no good. She left the room when they told me to make her comfortable and say my goodbyes soon before it was to late…" The line was silent for a brief moment. On the other side, Steve could hear Clint moving around and closing a few textbooks. He could hear the papers rustling as Clint put his homework away deciding to listen to Steve rather than work on calculus.

"Did they give you an estimated time?" He asked cautiously. There was a long pause and Clint knew it couldn't be good news.

"No more than a week…" Steve began to make his way down the street toward home realizing how late it was. It was almost ten at night and he'd been out since three. The only time he went home was to drop his mother off after the doctors. She was tired.

"Steve…the doctors may be wrong. Your mom can beat this. Sarah is one tough cookie."

"She's off medication, Clint. She's not going to get any better without it. The only good it would do to go back on it is it would prolong her death, but then she would be suffering." Clint was silent knowing anything he said would not have any condolence to his pained friend. "I don't know what I'm going to do without her. What will happen to me?"

"You'll be fine, Steve, you have all of us." Clint reassured him. "If you need anything from us we'll take care of you. Hell, you can live with me if you have to."

"Your parents would never allow it."

"Then live with Thor. Odin would be _ecstatic_ to have you move in." Steve scoffed,

"Loki would murder me in my sleep, are you kidding?" Clint laughed hoping the comment would bring some comedic relief to the conversation.

"I'd like to see that scrawny little shit try to do that." He heard Steve laugh on the other line very briefly. At least he was lightening up. "As much as Thor loves his brother, he'd kick his ass if he tried to kill you." Steve nodded knowing it was the truth. Of course Clint couldn't see him, but he knew Steve knew that was true. Steve was just to upset to speak.

"I should probably let you go now. It's getting late and looks like it may rain. I should probably get home." He mumbled.

"Want me to come pick you up?"

"No. I'll see you tomorrow at school. You finish your calculus."

"My teacher is going to get an earful if I get another packet tomorrow." Steve chuckled and hung up his phone before shoving it deep into his pants pocket. He headed down the street toward his house feeling a few raindrops begin to fall. Great, not only had this day taken an awful turn, but now he was going to get caught in a storm and show up soaking wet. That would only upset his mother more, and the last thing he wanted was for her last days to be spent worrying about _him_.

He pulled up his hood on his hoodie and crossed his arms. He wondered how much he must look like a miserable homeless person to everyone driving by. The roads were strangely busy for a Monday especially this late at night, but he didn't think much of it. He did live in a weird town. Maybe there was a party going on somewhere and he, thankfully, wasn't invited. Now not only did he hate parties, but he was in no mood whatsoever to be going to one.

Everything was just going downhill since Friday. Ever since that party his life had been going in a strange direction and he didn't know what to think about it. Maybe if he just blamed all his problems on Tony than he would feel better. But he couldn't easily do that considering his personal problems and his mother's pneumonia had nothing to do with Tony Stark. He sincerely doubted Tony gave his mother pneumonia anyway.

The rain was coming down heavily and he had to duck his head to keep his face dry from the persistent downpour. If this wasn't a reflection on his mood right now, he didn't know what was. He was also dreading going home to his mother knowing that he was watching her slowly die. It was one of the worst things imaginable and he tried to keep his emotions bottled up – he was good at that.

He considered skipping school the next few days so that he could spend time with her before she passed. However he knew Sarah would never allow him to skip school; she cared far too much about his education to let him fall back in his work so quickly and rapidly. Of course she would still put him before herself while she was on her death bed. But the last thing he wanted was to come home and see her dead on the couch or in bed. Or worse, on the floor. He wouldn't know how to deal with that. He doesn't know how to deal with any of this that is being thrown at him. All of this is unreal. He tried pinching himself to wake up, but his efforts were futile and he kept walking through the rain toward home which was still a ways away.

"This is a sight. If you're going for the whole damsel in distress look it's working brilliantly for you." Steve turned his head toward the voice and saw that a car had pulled up beside him and was going no more than two miles an hour to keep up with his slow pace. Inside the car was a familiar face hidden by a pair of unnecessary sunglasses.

"What do you want, Tony?" Steve nearly growled not really anticipating this new human contact.

"Can't a guy go for a ride in the middle of the night without being questioned for his actions?" Tony cocked an eyebrow looking at Steve who was standing in confusion. At least he had stopped moving so Tony didn't have to drive at a snails pace. "This situation seems a little off to me since normally it's girls I'm talking to outside the car, not guys." Steve was taken aback and gave him a disgusted look. "I'm kidding, sunshine, don't be such a prude. But what the hell? Do you want to play as the hot chick I pick up on the side of the road tonight?" He playfully winked, but Steve wasn't in the mood for playing along.

"I just want to get home, Tony." Steve deadpanned.

"I know. I'll drop you off. I've only known you for a few days, Rogers. I'm not going to start putting moves on you till I've at least known you for five more minutes." Steve chuckled. It would be nice to get home and not be soaked to the core, but at the same time, he wasn't looking to forward to getting in a car with Tony when he was in this mood. "Come on, peaches, do you want the ride or not?" A sigh escaped Steve knowing he better just accept the ride and get in the car. Quickly, he climbed into the passenger seat as Tony rolled the window up and put the car in drive.

"Thanks for this." Steve mumbled not looking directly at Tony.

"Don't mention it. I guess this is a way of me repaying you for driving my drunk ass home. Well, you actually let my drunk ass crash at your house for the night, but let's not delve into formalities. And by the way, I still have your pants." Steve just sat there silently thinking, _wow, this guy can talk. _"They've been dry cleaned and pressed. I can bring them to school for you tomorrow if that'll make you happy."

"Sure, thanks."

"No problem, Rogers. I aim to please." He turned down Steve's road and it surprised him that he actually remembered where Steve lived. Hadn't he been shitfaced when Steve took him there?

He turned into Steve's driveway and put the car in park. Steve sat frozen for a moment and looked down at his lap which was covered in rainwater. Tony cocked an eyebrow and turned off the car so the sound of the engine wasn't roaring in the background.

"What's got you in such a bad mood? Aren't you normally all sunshine and rainbows?" He asked turning to face Steve.

"No, I'm not. And it's nothing of your concern." Steve shook his head. "You don't need to be bothered with my personal life issues."

"You were bothered with mine when you brought me here. Isn't it only fair that I let you complain in return for listening to me bitch?"

"This is a little different than your issue was. As much as I appreciate your concern, I can't tell you." Steve opened the car door and took a step out. "Thanks again for the ride. And I'll see you tomorrow at school when I pick up my pants." He nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, not a problem. Always happy to help." The tone of his voice indicated otherwise, but he actually meant it. At least Steve was nice to him when everyone else was probably sending death threats to his P.O. Box. "For what it's worth though," Steve turned around as Tony started up the car and began to speak again. "Whatever is bothering you…I hope it gets better. See you around, Steve." He rolled up the window and backed out of Steve's tiny driveway and out into the road. Steve stood in the pouring rain watching Tony drive off toward his house and listening as the music from his car drifted away.

The faintest smile broke out on his face and he waved after the car that was already gone. Maybe he truly had found an unexpected friend in Tony when he most needed it.

_**So sorry for this late update! I've been busy with school and work – the normal excuses – and I also went to a comic con near where I live all last weekend and literally did not touch my computer at all, so I'm sorry about that! I did have fun cosplaying as lady cap, though. And I also got a Tumblr, so you can blame that for my late update as well.**_

_**As you've noticed, I have changed the description of this story nearly 20 times, and it still is awful! Also, I have changed it from a humor/romance to a drama/romance. You all know I loves me some drama. **_

_**I will try to get the next update up quicker than this, but I do end school in a couple of weeks and have a load of tests coming up that I need to focus on, so I may have to prolong the next update till after I get out of school. Sorry! But believe me, it will be up. I'm not going anywhere! **_

_**Pretty please REVIEW and let me know your lovely thoughts on this story so far! I love your opinions and comments. They never cease to make me so very happy. **_

_**I love each and every one of you all so dearly and hope you are all enjoying my first High School AU so far! Thank you all for making this a favorite and following, it means a lot! I love you guys! **_

_**Happy Reading!**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: It Wasn't Long Enough **

It was as if the rain hadn't stopped all week. Steve had fallen asleep listening to rain and thunder and woke up to the same sound since Monday night. Perhaps Mother Nature had gotten the memo that he was depressed this week and she just wanted to make him feel worse than he already did. Because what worsened a sour mood more than rain? Even now as he stood in the middle of the cemetery he was getting pelted with rain. They felt like bullets on his back and on his head as he stood motionless letting his forgotten umbrella balances him.

By now, everyone was long gone on their way home with their families to go be with each other. Nothing made you appreciate family more than a funeral for someone else's lost loved one. Steve knew that all too well since he'd been to more funerals for his family than he could count. Usually after those, he and Sarah would spend the whole day together at home watching movies, and just being in each others company. Funerals really were like a slap in the face sometimes. None of them hit his as hard as this one though.

Sarah had been there for him his whole life. She had practically raised him on her own on account of Joseph never being around or sober enough to take care of him. It was like Joseph was just there to pay childcare most of the time. But as Steve grew up and Joseph passed away, he grew more appreciative of Sarah, and they grew closer. Living through poverty and going some days on just one meal made him really appreciate what he had. Sarah was one of those main things.

It wasn't long enough. He had spent seventeen years with her and it just wasn't long enough. He'd never know what a mother's love felt like again, and that hurt the most. There truly is nothing more powerful than a mother's love for her child, and it burned Steve to know he had lost that in a short seventeen years.

A bunch of _if only _questions began to run through his mind as he lowered his head down, gripping tightly onto the umbrella in his hands. If only he had spent more time with her. If only he had gotten her better medical attention. If only he didn't take her love for granted. If only…

Days after her passing he had met with the bank and funeral arrangers multiple times. During those visits he was informed Sarah had never written a will. He wasn't surprised she didn't considering how weak she was. During her last few weeks all she was able to do was walk around and sit. Other than that, she might as well have been immobilized. During her last few days she had hardly left her bed except to use the bathroom. Steve would come home to hear her in the middle of a coughing fit or throwing up. It was no shock to him she never got around to writing a will. In her state, he was shocked she still had enough energy to smile at him when he came to see her in her room.

Today was his last day in his home – the home he had grown up in his whole life – before the bank foreclosed it and took it and all the memories in its walls away from him. Since Sarah left no will passing on anything to Steve, the bank took control of the house and everything in it that didn't belong to Steve. After he got that news from the bank, he ran out to the alley and he could swear he had never thrown up more in his life.

As of tomorrow, he would be homeless.

He was terrified. He didn't know how he would make it on his own with the little money he had saved, and the little money that Joseph had left him when he died. It was by no means enough to afford living accommodations, and it didn't help that he was unemployed.

"What do I do, mom?" He whispered as he looked down at her headstone with fresh tears brimming in his eyes. "What do I do?" Silence was his only answer, and it always would be when he wanted to look to Sarah for answers. He bit down on his bottom lip and choked back a horrible sob.

Her death had been awful. It didn't happen peacefully in her sleep, and it didn't happen while he was at school or sleeping. It happened at two o'clock in the morning on Wednesday, and her coughing alone had kept him up most of the night. It wasn't until she started calling his name in a distressed, choked tone did he realize he should get out of bed and go see what was the matter.

She sat in the center of her bed, lying on her back, her chest heaving in pain with each cough that exited her. Steve took cautious steps forward toward the bed as she reached for him and sputtered his name almost inaudibly. Her hand was shaking along with her whole body – it was almost like she was convulsing. When he took her hand, both of them gripped each other tightly. Their eyes met, and she kept choking as if something was shoved down her esophagus preventing oxygen to flow through, and there might as well have been. She kept struggling to try and say something, and Steve kept getting closer hoping that if he did he would hear her. But finally, she pushed him away and placed a hand over her heart, tapping it a little before she reached out and pressed her hand over Steve's, tapping it a little in the same way she had hers. She was trying to say, _I love you_. He nodded, struggling to hold back intense sorrow as Sarah smiled up at him. She mouthed, with much struggle, _be good_. Steve promised he would multiple times, and sputtered _I love you, mom _over and over again as he watched her eyes drift up toward the ceiling and slowly begin to flutter shut as if she were falling asleep. If only she were, but the horrid coughing, shaking, and wheezing proved that she wasn't. And in a matter of moments, the room went silent, and she went still. The pressure on his hand released, and began to fall out of Steve's, but he wouldn't let it go.

It took him a few minutes to accept what had happened, but for a minute or two, he just stared down at her pretty corpse lying lifeless on the bed wondering if she were just sleeping. He kept wishing she'd wake up and get moving for the day like she used to do every morning, but that didn't happen. She just lay there.

He didn't fall back asleep after that. He lowered his head into his mothers hand letting his tears flow out onto her porcelain skin. He kept trying to will her hand to hold back onto his, but it just kept falling limp. It wasn't until it was around six thirty did he get disturbed by the front door opening and the sounds of familiar footsteps walking through the house. Clint had shown up to take him to school, but that day neither of them would go.

The rain began to pour down on him as he stood in front of Sarah's gravestone, trying to steady his breathing and hold back tears. He didn't want to cry anymore, he was done with crying. He'd been crying since Wednesday and he'd had enough of it. He'd lost so much sleep, hadn't gone to school since then, and did nothing except sit in bed and make funeral arrangements and pack. Pack everything he could that is.

Now, as he finally turned out of the cemetery and toward his car that was parked on the gravel driveway, he rubbed his eyes realizing he had to go home and pack even more. None of his friends knew about the eviction – not even Clint who would no doubt find out on Monday when he showed up at Steve's house to take him to school. Until then, he didn't plan on telling a single one of them. He just was going to gather his things and check into a Best Western down the road or a Holiday Inn for a few days so he could be left alone in his sadness and solitude for a few days. After that, he didn't know. Maybe during that time he would collect all his money and see if it was enough to rent an apartment. He didn't even want to think about moving into an orphanage. They'd support him for less then a year, and then he'd be on his own. What was the point?

He headed off down the road with a million thoughts running through his mind, and the few bags he had already packed rattling in the trunk of his car. The car that would soon be taken away along with his house by tomorrow.

OOO

Three loud and obnoxious bangs on the door woke him up the next day. When his eyes opened he felt his heart drop into his stomach, and a lump formed in his throat as he slowly climbed out of his bed for the last time. He felt heavy, and he was shaking slightly as he began to make his way down the hallway of empty picture frames – ha had taken all the family photos with him – toward the door where someone was banging again.

"Mr. Rogers, open the door." A stern voice called from outside. They saw Steve's silhouette in the window frames and banged on the door again as Steve began to unlock the multiple locks. Of course the police would come earlier then they needed to come. Of course they would have to crush him faster than they needed to do so.

"I was just gathering my things." He mumbled as the police men stepped into his house with their arms crossed. "I woke up late." In fact, he hadn't even set an alarm to be out of the house by the time they demanded he was. He didn't care to do so. This was his house, the house he had grown up in, and if he wanted to spend a few extra hours sleeping in _his _bed in_ his _house then he would. And that he did.

"Come on, son, it's time to go." One of the more fatherly looking police officers ordered thrusting his hand out for the keys to the house, the car, and also the deed to the house. Steve just pointed to the kitchen table where all those things lay. One of the female officers wandered off to gather them as Steve headed back toward his room to get his luggage and get dressed – if they would allow him the time.

He slowly packed away his pajamas into his duffle bag before sliding into a pair of khaki pants and a blue button down shirt that he was almost certain his mother bought him for Christmas a year ago. Over that he threw on a leather jacket he refused to leave behind and slid into a pair of his sneakers. All in all, he only had a duffle bag and two suitcases of his things with him along with a backpack which held school work and pictures. Everything else was sitting around the house ready to be taken away and probably junked at the dump.

_ Keep it together, Steve._ He urged himself as he picked up the two suitcases and began to head toward the front door where the police officers stood impatiently save the fatherly one who was giving him a sympathetic smile. The female office placed a hand on his shoulder in a firm way trying to steer him out of the house quicker than necessary. He turned over his shoulder to see if he had forgotten anything important or of sentimental value. With a nod, he headed out the door realizing he hadn't, and the first male officer locked up the house and put a padlock on the door handle preventing anyone but them and the bank to enter the house ever again until it was bought. Steve frowned taking one last glance at the sign on the door reading _Rogers _that he wasn't allowed to take either. In a day or two that sign would also be junked.

"Do you need a ride anywhere, son?" The fatherly officer asked as the other two got into the car ready to go. "Are there any relatives you have in town that you might want me to take you to?"

"If there were they would be here now." He tried to keep the venomous tone out of his voice as he began to walk down the driveway refusing to look back at the house again.

"We could drop you off at a friend's house if you'd like."

"I've already got things worked out just fine, thanks." He muttered heading up the road toward the nearest Holiday Inn which was about a twenty minute walk from his house. In a matter of seconds he heard the police car drive off – clearly they could care less where he was off to – and he was alone walking down the side of the street at nine in the morning.

His feet dragged underneath the weight of his luggage and his now broken heart. For once though, the sky was clear, but even that wouldn't brighten his dark mood which had been that way since Wednesday.

People drove by in their cars at alarming speeds probably heading to church or work, a few even honked at him trying to see what he was up to, but naturally he kept his head down and fixated on his feet urging himself to keep moving. _Left, right, left, right. Keep moving. Keep it together._ _Thing could always be worse._ Except they couldn't be worse. Not right now at least. There was something inside him telling him to keep moving, and then there was a smaller less loud voice telling him to just jump in front of the next car that came speeding by. But he silenced that voice knowing that that was not the answer to this. It would solve nothing.

_Keep moving. Keep moving. _

OOO

Monday came far too quickly for anyone, especially Steve. He had texted Clint that morning telling him he was getting a ride with someone else. Of course he had lied and he woke up early so he could walk from the Holiday Inn to the school. It was a good half an hour walk, but it gave him time to mentally prepare himself for all the _I'm so sorry_'s,and the _I under stand what you're going through,_ and especially the _I'm here if you need to talk._ Of course he wasn't going to _anyone _with this except for Clint and maybe Thor, Natasha, and Bruce. Natasha was good at listening, but as for sympathy or advice, she wasn't exactly top of the line. Thor was always optimistic and had a can-do attitude, so Steve figured he'd be a nice option. Bruce was a decent enough listener, and he analyzed things pretty well, but Steve knew he'd be far too sympathetic and pitiful on him, but he still thought _maybe._ Clint was probably his first choice though since he was his best friend. However he still couldn't bring himself to tell them that he was homeless and living at a Holiday Inn on water and complimentary muffins.

He trudged up the street seeing kids drive past him on their way to school. None of them honked or laughed at him for walking once they realized it was him. A lot of them just stared at him with worried eyes as they passed and slowed down their cars thinking he wouldn't notice. Of course he did, but he didn't bat an eyelash to let them know. He loved his classmates, but he didn't want their pity. It would be awful if someone came up to him with the sympathy in their eyes to give him their regards and he had to walk away crying again. He'd had it with the tears. He had cried so much that his cheeks were raw from where he rubbed them with tissues, and his eyes were still a little red. He was sick of it.

The school came into view on the horizon and he picked up the pace a bit when he looked at his phone and saw that class started in twenty minutes. He'd make it in time, but he wanted to join his friends at their usual spot at the table. Although he was upset and not really in a buddy-buddy mood right now, he still wanted to see them. Maybe their smiling faces would cheer him up a bit more. Thor usually knew how to do that. So did Bruce.

He slowly made his way across the parking lot hearing everyone whisper things about him, glance over at him, and a few people even tried to get his attention. He didn't pay attention. Instead, he focused on the people who just looked at him confused as they muttered that they thought he transferred or dropped off the face of the earth. Thankfully those people had no clue what happened, and their confusion was refreshing. It was nice to see people not shooting him pity every five seconds. Hadn't he gotten enough of that at the funeral?

The doors opened for him as he stepped across the threshold of the doors. He lowered his head a bit to avert everyone's eyes which had automatically fallen onto him. _This is worse than the parking lot._ He thought angrily as he made his way over to where his friends were sitting at their table.

They were all leaning in toward each other super close, talking about something beyond his knowledge. Even Loki was sitting there, and his face looked somewhat interested in what they were talking about. At least that got a chuckle out of Steve. However, Clint seemed to be the ringleader of the conversation, and the look on his face was a mixture of troubled mentality, and anger. There was also a bit of confusion thrown in there, but Steve couldn't be too sure.

"-And wouldn't you know it, there was a fucking padlock on the door!" Steve froze where he stood when he heard what they were talking about. He cursed under his breath when he realized this caught their attention as they all turned toward him. Clint looked pissed off and worried, and so did everyone else. Loki even looked a bit confused. If Steve wasn't so targeted right now, he'd probably laugh at that.

"Dude," Clint jumped down from his chair and made his way over to his disheveled looking friend. "When I drove past your house, there was a for sign sale in your lawn. And you know me, I'm a nosey bastard, so when I got out to go see if you were there, there was an eviction notice on your fucking door along with a padlock!" All Steve could do was nod with a _no shit_ expression on his face. Everyone was leaning in a bit closer now like this was the most interesting headline in the paper or on the news.

"Why the hell didn't you tell us, Steve?" Natasha all but shouted from across the table. Steve just shrugged not knowing what to tell them. He didn't tell them because he didn't want to. He didn't want to become any of their burdens, and it's easier for him to stay at the Holiday Inn and be in his own solitude rather than have them fretting over him every single night. Of course eventually his money would run out and he'd need to go somewhere else, but that day would come when it came, and right now he didn't want to be around any of that.

"Steven, you are always welcome at our home." Thor put a hand on Steve's shoulder as he motioned between him and Loki. "You know that mother and father would have no issue with it."

"I would." Loki mumbled and earned a disapproving look from Thor.

"Thanks, but I don't need it. I have a place to stay."

"Where? The fucking Best Western?" Clint asked flabbergasted.

"Actually, the Holiday Inn, but you were close."

"Steve, this isn't funny." Bruce shook his head in disappointment.

"I wasn't trying to be funny." Steve looked at all of their sad expressions and then back at the hallways where students were beginning to go to class frantically. "We should get to class."

"Like hell we should!" Clint exclaimed making Steve turn back to him with wide eyes. "Dude, you're living at a fucking hotel. Do you know how much hotel stays cost a night? You don't have the money for that. Hell, you don't even have a job, Steve. Where the fuck do you think you're going to go once the money runs out?" Steve shrugged weakly,

"I'll figure it out."

"Oh, right, like you always do. I forgot." Clint threw his hands up in exacerbation letting them slap on his thighs. An angry groan escaped him before he put his hands back on Steve's shoulders. "Look, you're my best friend Steve. If I could I would let you live with me, but my parents would rather have shards of glass shoved up their assholes than have another mouth to feed. Barney and I already share a room, so you'd either take his bed or be subjected to the couch, and I won't make you suffer through either. Thor is offering you a place to stay, _take it._" Steve looked over at Thor who was smiling weakly over at him. Loki even threw him a less than enthused smirk. Maybe that was a little hint saying he wouldn't strangle Steve in his sleep while he stayed with them. _If _he stayed with them.

"Thanks, but I'm fine for now. Don't worry about me you guys."

"Oh, we're worrying." Bruce nodded quickly with his eyes bugging out of his head. "Shit, Steve, you're living at a Holiday Inn, how long do you think that's going to last?"

"Till this runs out." He pulled a wad of cash out of his backpack with a rubber band wrapped around it. They all shouted at him to put it away, and he obliged without argument. "Well I couldn't leave it in my hotel room, now could I?" There was no safe in his room, so all his precious items were hidden throughout the room where only he would find them.

"I'm going to class." Loki mumbled jumping down from his chair and heading toward the hallways.

"We should all get to class." Steve turned on his heel as Clint shouted at him claiming they weren't done talking. However, Steve decided they were and made his way down the hallway to his first hour where he could just sit alone and not bother with any of them for an hour or two.

OOO

"You heard?" Bruce mumbled over the lab they were working on in chemistry. It wasn't even ten minutes into class and the two of them were almost done with the assignment the teacher handed out for the lab. After that they just figured they'd mess around with the equipment. Maybe they'd blow something up just for the hell of it.

"I was at the funeral, Bruce." Tony looked at him shocked, throwing a hand up in confusion.

"Oh…I didn't see you."

"I was in the back." He shrugged. "I only met her once, and, you know, I wasn't exactly welcomed if you understand what I mean." He was pertaining to Clint who would have no doubt kicked him out had he seen he was there. That's why he chose a seat in the way back and left as quickly as he could after the funeral was over.

"They're not your biggest fans."

"At least you love me, Brucey." He mixed a few of the chemicals together, yawning at how old school this all felt like. He was far to ahead of the game to be playing with this teachers chemistry set. "I wonder if this will blow up…" He pointed to his mixture and then to a strange blue looking chemical sitting apart from the rest of the group.

"He's living at the Holiday Inn you know…" Bruce ignored Tony's childish ponderings and got back onto the subject of Steve which was an extremely hot topic for the past week. Practically everyone – even some of the teachers – had been talking about him. When Steve missed the first day, everyone was in shock because he never missed school, but once word got out that Sarah died, it was on everyone's gossip list. Steve was pretty popular after all.

"No shit?" Tony looked up from the blue chemicals with a wide eyed look crossing his face. "Why isn't he at his house?"

"He was evicted."

"_Evicted_?"

"Yeah. I'm guessing Sarah didn't write a will or something. Maybe he was too young to stay there, I'm not sure. All I know is that Clint went there this morning and the house had a for sale sign in the lawn and an eviction notice on the door." Tony took off his goggles and set them down on the table as the news sank in. He had no idea why it was worrying him so much or why he cared so much, but it felt like someone just punched him in the face.

"Wouldn't he stay with meatswing or Barton or something?"

"Thor offered, but he declined. I don't know…he just prefers the hotel at the moment." Tony looked out the window unsure of what to say. Bruce furrowed his brows realizing that there was a subject change in need. Tony wasn't one to really get worked up about things, but when he did, he was twitchy, and right now, he was bobbing his leg and tapping the table with his fingernails. Bruce suddenly felt bad about bringing the whole Steve thing up; he didn't know how much Tony cared. He didn't even know _if _Tony cared, but it certainly was bothering him.

Quickly to change the subject, Bruce leaned in narrowing his eyes at Tony, "You should probably get that looked at…" He pointed to Tony's eye which was completely black and blue all around. His cheek bone was also slightly bruised as well with a bit of a gross looking yellow tint to it. It almost looked like an overzealous twelve year old girl got a little too excited with her first makeup kit while testing it on his face. But the markings had been there for a few days now, so the whole idea that maybe Tony had a huge drunken night followed by a black out was out of the question.

"I told you, it's nothing." Tony waved it off like it was no big deal as he slipped on his sunglasses as nonchalantly as he could. "It was late; I was out of coffee, and I fell down the stairs and hit the railing. Happens all the time, right?" Bruce tilted his head unsure of Tony's excuse. Tony wasn't _that _clumsy. However, Bruce just shrugged,

"If you say so…and you should cut that coffee addiction of yours."

"And drink that hippy shit you do? No thanks, cupcake, I'll stick to my unhealthy addiction that will one day be the death of me." He pointed to his coffee mug – which was sitting on the teacher's desk since they were working with chemicals – and smiled.

"I drink _tea_, Tony." Bruce corrected him.

"More like radioactive waste."

"Except healthier." Tony shut his eyes laughing as he got up to grab his coffee from the teachers desk who was giving him disapproving looks. He just pointed to their finished lab and worksheet before taking a long gulp of his drink and heading back to the table.

"I don't do tea parties, Bruce babe."

"What a shame, you'd look so pretty in my pink fluffy dress." Bruce joked earning another laugh from Tony.

"Mmm, sexy. Well when you put it that way, invite me to the next one you throw, you jolly green monster." Bruce rolled his eyes at Tony's nickname for him. How he even came up with it, Bruce had no clue. Maybe it had something to do with his anger issues and the fact that he was a bit of a health nut. Who knows?

They turned their lab in a few minutes later and sat talking for the rest of the hour. By the end of class, Tony had an overwhelming urge to skip his next hour and find Steve. He wanted to talk to him. No, he _had_ to talk to him. He didn't know what it was, but the fact that the kind blonde had taken his drunken ass under his wing, let him stay at his house, and was actually _nice _to him unlike the rest of the school – save Bruce – made him want to see him. Not to pity him, but maybe help him. He wasn't about to let Steve stay homeless and alone. Especially not now when he probably needed someone else with him the most. As much as he wanted to avoid human contact – and sympathy – he needed it. Tony understood avoiding emotions more than anyone else, but he knew Steve probably needed to be a little less guarded, and a little more open. And he wanted to help, as strange as it was.

OOO

Of all things, Steve's crappy hotel room had a balcony. There wasn't much of a view from it, just a view of the congested streets below leading into the suburbs. The roads were always backed up; it didn't matter what time it was. The only time the streets were virtually empty was when Steve headed to the hotel, and sometimes at the wee hours of the night. It was soothing when there were people down there though, rushing to get to their destination as fast as possible. At least they had somewhere they could go, somewhere they had to be. It would have helped Steve when he was walking to the hotel if he saw more people out there on the road. Maybe it would have given him a flicker of hope instead of blowing out the dimly lit candle inside his heart that held the last fragment of hope inside him.

He sat in a browning lawn chair with his feet up on the railing that seemed a little less than trustworthy. In his hands he was cradling a bottle of beer he had thrown in his bag the night before he left his home forever. It wasn't like he would rely on alcohol to make his pain go away, but it was his second night alone here after seeing all his friends, seeing the pity on their faces as he sat with nothing for lunch. It disturbed him, and the beer in his luggage seemed like a nice distraction from that.

Even before he left school, Thor tried to convince him to live with him for a while. He kept saying that Odin and Frigga would be elated to have him join the family. He even lied and said Loki would love it. But after about ten minutes of that, Steve just gathered his things and began to make his way down the street toward the hotel again. The hotel that he knew now as his home. At least there he had a bed, a shower, and food. It was as close to home as he was going to get right now.

His hair whipped across his forehead in the light spring breeze that was going by. He took another swig of the beer that was nearing the bottom of the bottle letting the comforting sounds of traffic relax him. The alcohol had a big contributing factor to that as well, but he didn't want to admit that. This was only his third beer since Wednesday, and he had no clue why he had had that many already. Sure he was upset, but he'd never been a big person on alcohol. This would probably be his last.

There was a light knock on his door – almost feather light – that he would have missed if the balcony door was shut just a millimeter more. He finished off the last of his beer as he stood up, heading inside for the first time in probably an hour, and dreading to see whoever was behind the closed door. If it was Thor or Clint, as much as he appreciated their concern, he was going to be pissed off. Was it so much to ask for some alone time so he could wallow in his misery without burdening others with it?

He unbolted the door and slowly swung it open to reveal whoever was hiding behind it. He saw familiar dark, messy, brown hair on a smaller figure with their head ducked down, and their foot was tapping. Once the door fully opened though and they realized Steve was actually there, they looked up.

"Oh thank God…" Tony sighed in relief, placing a hand over his heart. "Do you realize that the concierge down at the front desk gave me the wrong hotel room three times and I almost walked in on three random people's hotel rooms? This one man answered his door with a blanket wrapped around his waist and his chick in the bed. I was expecting to find a threesome in this room instead of you, but thankfully not." He prattled on, walking into Steve's room uninvited and looking around at the messy state of it.

"What are you doing here?" Steve asked not expecting Tony to ever stop by. He was the last person Steve expected to pay him a visit.

"Well, Bruce told me you decided to move to the Holiday Inn. It's…lovely by the way, I'm just here to question your life choices." Tony sat down on the unmade bed, and crossed his legs, clasping his hands over his knee expectantly.

"This wasn't by choice, Tony." He mumbled locking the door and bolting it again. "He should have also told you I was evicted from my home."

"He did, but I'm just a little curious as to why you're deciding to stay here and not with someone who is offering you a home. Last I heard, Thor and his little monster were offering you a place to stay and you declined." Steve scoffed realizing how fast word spread at Avenger's High. People he didn't even know probably knew about his new makeshift home at the Holiday Inn.

"I don't want to burden anyone." He shrugged. Tony coughed trying to cover up himself saying _horseshit _under his breath like a child. "Tony, I'm serious." Tony scoffed. He uncrossed his legs and got to his feet as he began to walk in random circles throughout the room. It was like he was searching for something, except his head was level and he was just scanning the mess Steve was living in.

It was quite a change from his tidy room back at his old house. Everything had a place there – even his lanyard – but here everything was strewn about and lying in random places. His varsity jacket was hanging on the bathroom door, and his dirty clothes were in a pile in the corner. Tony was positive that Steve had a hamper at his house. He may have been shitfaced drunk when he was there, but Steve's room was hard to forget.

"Look Rogers, this is pathetic." Tony whirled around from facing the dirty clothes, and his finger was pointing to the mess. "This whole fucking room is pathetic. And what you're doing is pathetic."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not going to sugar coat it, Steve. You're being fucking _pathetic._" He enunciated ever syllable as he shoved his hands deep inside his pockets. "You're here because you don't want anyone to baby you or shove their pity onto you, and I get that. I understand solitude better than anyone else, but this is just…" He shook his head. Why would Steve subjugate himself to something like this? He was probably paying up the ass a night for this poor excuse of a hotel room, and all he got in return was lukewarm shower water, a shitty bed, and a complimentary breakfast muffin in the morning. "You don't want pity or sympathy, fine, I can offer that. I can offer that _plus_ interest."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you coming to stay with me." Steve opened his mouth to object, but Tony held up his hand impatiently with a scowl on his face. "Shut your mouth. You took me in when I needed it, and this is a way of me returning the favor."

"I took you in for a _night_." Tony widened his eyes at him in irritation,

"Does it look like that makes even a fraction of a difference to me? Look, Howard and mom could probably care less if you came to stay with us – we have the room. Neither of them knows what happened to Sarah, and they don't need to know if you don't want them to. They're used to me bringing home strays and random strangers from time to time. The only one who knows is me, and I'm not about to bother you with it or pity you about it, because contrary to popular belief I know when to keep my whore mouth shut." His arms were spread wide with invitation by the end of his little explanation. Steve just stared at him, mouth half open in confusion with his eyebrows knitted together.

"Why would I take you up on that offer when I already turned down Thor and everyone else?"

"Because I'm not going to treat you how you don't want to be treated. I'm not going to coddle you and shove my pity down your throat, and neither will anyone else in the house of Stark." Steve tilted his head. Thor _would _show him pity, and so would his family – except for Loki. That's just the type of people the Odinson's were, and he admired them for that. Maybe someday he wouldn't mind having someone there to talk to about Sarah and everything he was weighed down with, but if there was one thing he couldn't stand right now, it was that look in people's eyes whenever he walked into a room. That look that made him feel twenty thousand times worse than he already did. Except when he looked at Tony, he didn't see that, he just saw the same Tony he knew. And there was something relieving in that discovery.

"You don't have to come today, stay here for another week if that's your wish, but the offer will still stand whenever you want to take it. Unlike me, your money is going to run out." Tony shrugged, seeing the tension slowly fade off of Steve's face. The guy had a hard shell, he had to admit, but Tony had a harder shell than anyone else. "Just a little food for thought, sugar pop." He began to make his way across the room back toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Steve turned around as Tony began to unlock the door. As much as he denied it, Tony's company was making him feel slightly better than he had in a while.

"Home before the old man gets there to ruin all the fun."

"Suddenly your offer sounds worse than it already did." Tony froze for a moment in the doorway. His eyes were fixated on the disgustingly patterned carpet on the ground below his feet. Compulsively, he adjusted his sunglasses on the bride of his nose before lifting he head,

"He's not too bad." _He's awful. _He made his way out of the room letting the door shut loudly behind him as he headed toward the elevator at the end of the hall. Maybe when he got down to the lobby he'd have a chit chat with the concierge about his escapade into a couple's room during their sexual encounters.

OOO

His clothes whirled around in the washing machine as he sat atop the dryer at the launder mat down the street. He remembered coming here when he was a kid with Sarah and their bags of dirty clothes and a few of his bloody shirts. They had always suffered with poverty, and for a few weeks all their appliances had been shut off, and they were subjugated to use the launder mat to wash their dirty clothes. He remembered sitting atop these washers as a little boy, tears running down his dirty cheeks, as Sarah took off his bloody shirt to wash it if it wasn't torn to badly. He remembered her washing off his dirty skin with a damp towel and putting bandages over all his cuts and scrapes.

"Steve, you need to start taking a different route home from school." She would say in a distraught tone as she bandaged up his skinny body. "Those bullies will stop bothering you if you do that."

"I can't keep running away, mom. Then they'll get worse." He would argue back.

"I know you want to stand up to them, Steve…" She sighed. "I just hate seeing you come home every day like this. Where has Bucky been? Don't you two walk home together usually?"

"He moved, mom. He lives in the opposite direction." Bucky always used to protect Steve from the bullies at their school. No one ever messed with Bucky.

"Oh, Steve…" She would sigh as she cleaned up the blood more and more.

That was a long time ago, though. Back when he was nothing more than a beanpole and had so many ailing sicknesses. When he got into middle school though – eighth grade to be exact – everything changed, and it was as if that Steve didn't exist anymore. That was also the year Bucky passed away. When Steve said he'd lost a lot of people close to him, he wasn't joking.

The washer dinged indicating his clothes were ready to be put in the dryer, and he jumped down to swap them out. He kept looking out the window wishing he would stop thinking about Sarah and his past, and now he was thinking about Bucky again, and neither of those things were what he needed to be thinking about right now.

He stuck a quarter into the dryer and hopped onto the washer to sit back and wait for the load of laundry to finish. He crossed his legs and looked down at his phone which was sitting in his lap. He had a bunch of unopened messages, a few from Thor, one from Natasha, and a few from Clint. All of which would stay unanswered for the moment. He set his phone down and looked at the clock on the wall that said it was two in the morning. Thank God this place was open twenty four hours, but the young woman behind the counter looked like she wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep. Her face was buried so deeply into the book she was reading that he wondered if maybe she really was asleep.

Slowly, he pulled his phone back up, and scrolled through his contacts until he landed on Tony's contact which he had gotten a few days back. He stared down at the number for a few minutes as his phone illuminated his face, and the dryer dinged in the background. _I'm talking about you coming to stay with me._

Steve mindlessly took his clothes out of the dryer and put them back into his duffle all the while he was still looking at the contact on his cell phone with an absent look in his eyes. _I'm not going to coddle you and shove my pity down your throat, and neither will anyone else in the house of Stark. _Steve bit his bottom lip as he headed out of the launder mat with his duffle slung over his shoulder.

He continued to make his way down the street, but as he did, he hesitantly pressed the illuminated contact on his phone and pressed it to his ear. His pace quickened as he headed down the road, a choked feeling forming in his throat. On the other line, a groggy voice picked up, and they were pissed.

"Whoever this is, it better be pretty fucking important. I was actually sleeping for once." They growled into the receiver.

"Tony," Steve spoke thankful his voice didn't crack from the tightness. There was an awkward silence on the line for a few moments before there was rustling followed by a tired groan.

"Steve, is that you?" Steve adjusted his duffle bag as he walked across the hotel parking lot. _What the hell am I doing?_

_**Yeah, I'm an awful person for updating so late, but I can explain! I finished school about a month ago, and then I went to Florida, and my job has been very taxing lately, and also…Tumblr…so I'm so sorry that I'm updating so late! Hopefully this chapter was good for all of you and will make up for my lateness. **_

_**Anyway, I will try to make the next chapter more interesting – I'm mapping it out right now – and it will hopefully be up quicker than this one. I know this one was a little slow paced, but it kind of needed to be to get all the emotions through and so forth. But like I said, the next one will be much better, so don't give up on me yet, I'm still writing everyday and I aim to please with my stories!**_

_**Pretty please REVIEW and let me know what you all think so far! Thank you all for following, making this a favorite, and thank you to those of you who have reviewed already! You all make my days so much happier and I love you all so dearly. Hugs and kisses for all of you! **_

_**Happy Reading! **_


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